


Mr and Mrs Abernathy

by allonsysilvertongue



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Hayffie AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-06
Updated: 2015-08-06
Packaged: 2018-04-13 07:16:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4512876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allonsysilvertongue/pseuds/allonsysilvertongue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They kept their identity a secret from one another. But what happens when they found out? A Mr and Mrs Smith Hayffie AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mr and Mrs Abernathy

**Author's Note:**

> I've been wanting to write a Mr and Mrs Smith au for nearly a year now and I finally got round to it.

The clock was ticking. Time was always of the essence and she was determined not to let herself get beaten down by it.

Effie bit her lip, fully concentrating on the task at hand. She rotated the circular dial carefully while listening out for the tell-tale click. In her mind's eyes, she tried to visualize the fence, the mechanism responsible for keeping the safe securely locked.

For the umpteenth time that night, she glanced down at her wrist watch. She had five minutes left on the clock. Five minutes left to crack the safe open and get out of the house without detection.

There was no use panicking. She would get this done. She knew she would. This wasn't her first rodeo.

Adjusting her stethoscope and pressing the bell against the metallic surface of the safe, Effie continued to rotate the dial, counterclockwise this time. She was too focused, too intent on listening to the wheels clicking into place that clicking sound behind her did not register in her mind until the gun was pressing against the back of her head.

Effie froze.

"Put your hands up, nice and slow," the voice ordered, "and get up."

When she did not move, the person roughly pressed the gun against her skull.

"You're rude," she commented but still, she lifted both hands up to show that she was unarmed.

Slowly, she stood up from her kneeling position on the floor. The intruder took a step back to allow her some room and it was the first mistake. Her eyes dropped to the ground to see where the feet were and Effie stomped her heel forcefully on the person's foot.

He yowled in pain, cursing at her in a language so colourful it would make her mother turn in her grave. He doubled over, momentarily distracted by the pain and the distraction was all she needed to grab his arm and twist it painfully, letting the gun fall into her palm. She raised her arm, aiming the gun straight at him.

"You broke my foot! You've crushed it, you stupid –"

Effie blinked. The voice was extremely familiar and she knew why.

"Haymitch?" she asked in disbelief.

He snapped his head up to look at her and his face mirrored the shock on hers. "Effie?"

"What are you doing here?" they asked at the same time.

She gaped at him and frowned. There were a thousand other people in this town and it was him, in this house with her? It made no sense to her at all. Had he followed her here? Didn't he believe her when she said she was going out for the night to catch up with her old friend, Annie? Her story had been tight.

"No, what are  _you_  doing here?"

"Always answering question with another question… How do you know how to hold a gun?" he demanded, taking in her stance and the familiarity with which she was holding on to the weapon.

"The question I should be asking is why do  _you_  have a gun in the first place? I thought you were more of a knife kind of person."

"Why are you  _here_  and what were you doing with that safe?"

"My story's hardly the topic of interest here," she waved the gun that was still aimed at him. "Answer the question, Haymitch, or I'll shoot."

He snorted. As if Effie Trinket could fire a gun… That scenario was so absurd that when she did pull the trigger to shoot his right foot, he hardly felt the pain because the shock was overwhelming. Then he crumpled to the ground, both of his feet now injured.

"What the fuck?" he gasped between breaths. Both his feet were bleeding, the right more than the left. Haymitch tore his shirt and wrapped it around the bullet wound, trying to staunch the bleeding. "You're fuckin' crazy."

Effie grimaced at his language. He was always so uncouth.

"You have a foul mouth."

"Which you enjoy kissin'. Don't pretend that you don't love this mouth and what it could do to you," he muttered.

"Are you going to answer the question now or not, Haymitch Abernathy? If that's even your real name…"

"Is Effie Trinket  _your_  real name, sweetheart?" he raised an eyebrow. It was difficult to be intimidating when he was kneeling on the ground with her towering over him. He sighed. "Crane's got somethin' I need - some information."

Effie tilted her head, surprised at that bit of news. "What sort of information?"

"You're a real piece of work, aren't you? You're really somethin' if you think I'd tell you after you just shot me," he told her off.

"You've got kneecaps, Haymitch. There won't be for long if you continue in that manner. If you still refused to talk after that, I'll move on to your two arms."

"Who the fuck are you?"

"Why, Haymitch," she mocked. "I'm your wife, of course."

"Like hell you are," he grumbled. "You ain't nothin' like the Effie I married. Something I should know about, Mrs. Abernathy?"

"I can say the same about you, darling. Now…" she said sweetly, pressing the barrel of the gun against his forehead.

Okay, okay! Goddamn it, woman."

Effie relaxed her stance a little. Of course, she wasn't going to blow his brains out but he didn't need to know that.

Throwing her a completely disdainful look, Haymitch started talking and Effie thought that was easy. He would never last under torture in this manner. Or maybe it was her, and he was just softer with her.

"He's got some dirt on Snow at the Capitol Inc. It's worth a hell of a lot of money to some people and he's got it all locked up in that safe but I bet you already know that. It's gonna make us rich."

 _Us_ , her body thrummed. Even with her aiming his own gun at him, he still referred to them as us.  _It's just a ploy._

"You've never cared about being rich," she commented if only to buy some time as she think things through. He was being truthful. There were documents in the safe that she was after.

"Yeah, I don't, but I cared enough about the protection it'll offer me with the Capitol gone," he scowled, not used to having to explain himself to anyone. "My turn," he said. "I get to ask some questions."

"I never agreed to – "

The wind was knocked out of her when Haymitch pulled hard on her leg, yanking it out from under her. Effie crashed to the floor, knocking her head hard. The next thing she knew, he was pressing and pinning her down so she could not fight back.

"Who are you working for?" he demanded. His ragged breaths were warm against her cheek.

How many times had he pinned her down to the mattress and kissed her breathless? How many times had she been in this position, yearning and aching to be touched? Too many, and she had enjoyed every single one of those moments but not now.

Now, he had a knife pressed against her throat. She never noticed him going for his knife. He was stealthy, she would give him that.

"Haymitch," she dropped her voice on purpose and licked her lips. She noticed the way his eyes flickered to her lips and she smiled because his body would betray him, and she would triumph. "We can talk about this, can't we? Work something out, perhaps?"

Effie raised her hips slightly – it was difficult when all of his body weight was pressing down on her – and rubbed against his crotch. His eyes widened and he moved his hip, putting some distance between them.

"Stop playing games," he growled even as his hand slid under her dress, roaming up her thigh to feel for any gun strap to it. For someone checking for weapons, he was certainly taking his own time feeling her up.

"But we  _love_  playing games…" she told him coyly, spreading her legs wider for him as his hand slipped down her inner thigh. "All those foreplay…."

"Who are you workin' for? I ain't gonna ask you again, sweetheart."

His silver eyes gleamed in the dark. Effie sighed knowing it wasn't working.

"Plutarch."

"What?" he exclaimed. "Plutarch sent  _me_  here."

She was taken aback, not at all expecting him to know Plutarch Heavensbee. "How can that be? He was the one who asked me to marry you! Nobody would suspect if -"

"Hold on a second. You didn't marry me.  _I_  married you. Plutarch told me – Son of a bitch," he blinked as the realisation set in. He rolled off her.

"What do you mean?"

"You worked for the Capitol. That's the whole fucking reason. I married you thinkin' you'd talk," he told her and then he started laughing. "I spent months tryin' to get you to tell me something 'bout the Capitol and you said nothin'. You don't really work for the Capitol, do you?" he shook his head. "I thought you were a fuckin' model, sweetheart. Chaff wouldn't believe me when I scored you."

"You didn't "score" me, don't be crude. Although, I certainly do have the figure and the talents, and your friend Chaff ought to be jealous of your good fortune," she winked. "But no, my appointment there was so I could gain access… Never mind that now. I thought you were a drunk!"

"Drunk's just my cover," he said far too quickly for it to be believable.

She let it go. If he wanted to lie about that, so be it, but he couldn't lie about the nightmares. She had been there night after night.

"Oh, is it?" she taunted instead, humouring him. Effie sat next to him, leaning against the wall. "Is rude your cover, too?"

"Is being a pain in my ass yours? 'Cause we've been married for nearly a year and you're – you're - fuck. This is so messed up."

She nodded. "We've been set up, you realized that, don't you?"

Effie reached out to touch his hand. She was tensed as she waited for his reaction. Instead of pulling away, Haymitch turned his palm upwards and threaded their fingers together. She let out a breath.

"I knew Plutarch's always been a bastard but he gave me a purpose and I -" he broke off abruptly, catching himself just in time.

"We are here for the same purpose, so why don't you and I work together to achieve it?"

The offer was tentative but it was out there all the same.

Haymitch was not expecting it. He turned, looking at her straight in the eyes as he tried to decide if she could be trusted and if he should take up on the offer.

There was something about her that made him a little foolish, a little reckless. He didn't know what it was but she made him want to do stupid things and reawakened irrational urges. Like now, he wanted to kiss her despite the danger they were in.

The truth was he did trust her and the realisation send a jolt down his spine. He had spent his entire life being cautious and wary to the point of paranoia but she came and she weaseled her way in.

"You want us to work together after you just threatened to bust my knee caps?"

"You pressed a knife to my throat. You didn't have to vocalize it but I got the threat loud and clear, Haymitch. You were going to slit my throat."

"I wasn't going to," he admitted.

"Me neither. I don't think I could," she said softly. "I am very fond of you. I never expected it. I thought – I thought it was going to be easy. Just another assignment but you… Well, you made everything complicated. Very complicated, indeed."

He smirked.

"I know someone who's just as interested in the information as Plutarch is. You ever heard of Coin?"

"No, can't say I have."

"You're about to. Ain't easy getting to her but I happen to know someone who knows how to get to her."

"Who might that be?"

"Can't say her name but where I came from, we call her the Mockingjay."

She huffed. "Really? An alias?"

"You in or not?"

"You want me to turn on Plutarch?"

"He set us up. Maybe it'll teach him a lesson," he shrugged and reached out to read the time on her wrist watch. "Better think fast, sweetheart, you were supposed be out of here six minutes ago, yeah?"

After a while, she gave a curt nod. "Very well."

"Great," he said, fishing through his pocket to give her an explosive device.

Effie pursed her lips. "That's not a very safe place to keep something as dangerous as this."

"Blow the safe," he said, ignoring her comment. "It won't harm whatever's inside, don't worry your pretty head 'bout it."

If he thought that would soothe her, he was wrong. If anything, Effie seemed miffed about it. "Blowing up a safe is hardly classy is it? I prefer to crack it. Really, Haymitch, try to have some finesse in your work."

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, well, you don't have time for that. Blow it up, sweetheart."

Blowing up the safe proved to be quicker than trying to crack it. Effie carefully rolled the papers and kept it in Haymitch's bag. With Haymitch's arm around her shoulder as she supported him, they barely made it out of the house when they heard the sound of a car entering the premises.

"Do you really have to wear heels when you're out to burgle someone's house?" he scoffed.

"As you've experienced it earlier, it's useful when you're trying to defend yourself."

"You didn't have to shoot me," he whined.

"You were insufferable, as always. We'll find a hospital and we'll pay off the doctors for their silence," she assured him as they limped out. "Your feet will be better, I promise, and you'll walk properly again."

"Hmph," he hummed, taking out a flask to take a swig while trying hard to ignore the pain on his lower limbs.

"Haymitch…"

"What?"

"Did you mean it? All that you told me while we were married? Did you mean it when you said I was beautiful?"

"You mean – what? – that you've never believed me when I told you that you're fucking beautiful?" he frowned. "That's stupid, sweetheart, 'cause you are, and if people can't see it, then they're aren't worth your damn time."

She smiled at him but it was gone as soon as it came. "I – I don't know if any of it was real. Not now, not after finding out ..."

"Still here, am I? Haven't tried to take the papers from you and make a dash for it. If one thing you should, I make good on my words."

"You can't run with those legs anyway," she pointed out.

For a long while, they didn't talk. It was quiet and they shuffled in silence. The walk to the car Effie had stowed away seemed to stretch on for miles.

"It was real for me, you know," she started, breaking the silence. "When I told you that I love you, it wasn't just… It wasn't an act to strengthen my cover or anything like that. What I felt for you, it was real, and it scares me. I've – I've never felt this strongly for anyone."

Haymitch said nothing. Declarations of love and any conversation involving feelings were never his strongest suit.

"This was going to be my last assignment," she continued. "I told Plutarch that, too. He wasn't happy but he accepted my decision. I was going to quit and … I was going to live with you."

"Yeah?" he forced the word out. He felt the sudden surge of hope and he desperately tried to quell it. Hope was a dangerous thing. Still, his mouth acted before his brain did, and he asked, "You still want that?"

"I do, very much. Do you?" she asked, her eyes seeking his. "This was a farce for you. I was just a job. I'm – We've were set up."

"Yeah, that's true but so what? I can make my own decisions," he said gruffly. "You're a pain, Effs, but if you can put up with my drinking, supposed I can learn to put up with your schedule. Kind of like havin' you 'round, anyway."

She laughed and pressed a kiss at the corner of his mouth.

At least she knew something for certain. Haymitch was not the most romantic man on earth and  _that_  wasn't a cover. That was real.


End file.
